


A Desperate Wish

by Squishy (BurbleJerry)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Crying, Curse Breaking, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Established Relationship, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-06-09 22:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15277767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurbleJerry/pseuds/Squishy
Summary: Owain has always wanted children, though no method has ever worked. Until one day, when he and Inigo find a little girl in the woods. Written for Owainigo Weekend 2018.





	1. Hurt & Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To hope so hard, despite all odds...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based-off a dream I had around the start of the month. I was going to write it as its own thing maybe, but then I realized it could fit the prompts, and yknow what? What the heck. Enjoy this fairy-tale-esque, dream-based Owainigo fic. Also, listen, no matter where a kid comes from, they are valid, and I wanna make that clear. Also this is also the only chapter with Libra, so if you’re reading just for him, then sorry to disappoint; he is great tho ngl.

Owain threw another log into the fireplace, but the flickering flames couldn’t warm his spirit. He sighed, and pulled closer the blanket draped around himself. The magic lingering in the air only compounded his sorrow. Not even Inigo, scooting into the blanket with him and handing him a warm mug of something, could cheer him.

Inigo stared into the flames, and finally whispered, “It’s ok, Owain. We tried our best.” He set down his mug and reached for Owain’s hand, and gave a squeeze as he saw tears run down the blonde’s cheeks. “Hey, come on, love. We’re not out of the game yet.” When Owain bowed his head, soft sobs escaping him, Inigo winced and leaned against him.

In truth, Inigo wanted to say more, but he wasn’t sure what to say. They had been together for so long, throughout the lands and through many adventures, and yet their biggest challenge came when they finally settled together. Their cabin in the woods was home, far enough for privacy and yet near their hometown. They visited family, and still had adventures, and enjoyed each other. Yet one thing still eluded them.

“What did I do wrong?” Owain gasped, voice thick with tears. “Have I failed as a hero? Was I cursed? This must be a curse, Inigo, a cruel curse, and I’m so sorry.” He sobbed then, miserable, and Inigo’s arms curled tight around him.

“It’s not your fault,” Inigo murmured, a phrase he’d uttered increasingly as of late. “It’s not your fault, Owain. We knew it was risky, right? We knew it might not work, right?” When Owain reluctantly nodded, Inigo forced himself to smile. “So that spell wasn’t a sure-fire thing, but that’s ok. We’re not out of ideas yet, are we? No, we’re not,” Inigo quickly added as Owain lifted his head, and the sight broke his heart. The poor blonde’s eyes were red, and his face wet with tears, so often shed these past few weeks.

“What else can we do?” Owain croaked out, his voice cracking on his own unrestrained sobbing. “No, no magic we try works,” he hiccuped, and went on before Inigo could speak, “I can’t have kids, no matter, no matter, no matter how hard we try, or,” he interrupted himself with another sob. Inigo stroked his cheek, but now he listened as Owain let it all out. “Or, or what I take, or, or any advice I take or, or herbs, or whatever, nothing works. Nothing, Inigo! I’m, I’m just, I just wanted to, to, to start a family with you, and I can’t, and,” Owain finally broke into sobs too severe to speak through, and simply put his head in his hands. Inigo idly noted that he’d set his mug down first, at least.

Inigo patted his love’s back and stroked his hair until Owain’s sobs had died somewhat. He rested his head upon Owain’s shoulder, and poked at the fire to renew it. Once the blonde was down to soft, miserable sniffles, Inigo dared to speak softly, “We’re not giving up yet, Owain. We didn’t fight so hard for peace just to give up now. Let’s go to town tomorrow.” The suggestion had Owain perking his head up, puffy eyes squinting at the dancer. “Let’s adopt, Owain. We can’t bring new life into this world, and that’s fine. So, let’s take in someone who needs a home, and raise them.”

Owain was silent for too long, staring at nothing in particular. The blonde looked to the fire, and a grin slowly blossomed on his face. “... Inigo, that’s perfect,” he rasped, and went on with his hoarse voice despite Inigo’s wince, “It matters not where they come from. I shall love our child fiercer then the burning of the stars! Inigo, can we go now? Tonight?”

Inigo laughed quietly and wiped at Owain’s face with the corner of their blanket. “Let’s go tomorrow morning, when it’s bright and early. You need to rest after today’s excitement, remember?”

“Not even the failure of a simple spell could keep me down,” Owain protested. Yet he leaned into Inigo and sighed, tired from spellwork and tired from crying. “But I will humor you. Just for tonight! We go as soon as we awaken! Oh, let’s visit Mom, too. She’ll want to meet them, I just know it!”

“She will,” Inigo agreed with relief. “She knows how hard we’ve been trying, love. But for now, let’s get you to bed. I promise to be up early tomorrow, just for you.” He picked up the mugs and stood with a stretch of his limbs. As Owain rose, they shared a grin, and the dancer felt hope blossom in his heart. Lissa, all of their family, knew all-too-well their strange difficulties; it was Owain’s father who had given them this latest spell to try, after all. Yet as long as Owain’s cousin lived, far away in the capital, they didn’t really need a child by blood, and Inigo knew in his heart that it would never matter to them. They would love their family no matter where they came from.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Hark, Azure Dancer! Your heart’s bond calls to thee! The bright rays of morning--”

“Owain,” Inigo groaned, reaching for his pillow. It was pulled from his sleepy fingers, and he glared at his grinning husband. Then he remembered what day it was, and sighed. “Ok, ok, I’m getting up. Do me a favor and make breakfast.”

“Already done!” Owain proclaimed, to Inigo’s visible surprise. “Now be dressed, my love. I shall await you at the table, and then we shall journey on!” The blonde bounced upon the bed and, after Inigo yelped, leaned in to kiss him soundly. Then Owain was off, and the dancer couldn’t help but smile.

“At least he’s hopeful,” Inigo mumbled to himself as he stood and dressed, becoming more and more awake as he went through his morning routine. By the time he joined Owain for breakfast, he only needed his coffee and actual food. His excited husband had already eaten, and passed the time babbling about all the things they’d do with their kid: exploring the woods, talking about adventures, visiting family. Owain still had a bunch of toys saved up, and those rested in a room they’d set aside, dusty but otherwise clean.

“Are you ready for us to meet our destiny?” Owain asked, right as Inigo finished his last sip of coffee.

“Yes, yes, I’m ready,” Inigo said with a sigh, though he smiled. Owain had already bounced to the door and stood waiting with impatient excitement. The dancer’s smile widened as he followed and took Owain’s hand. “Let’s go.” The words were barely out of his mouth when Owain dragged them out, and Inigo laughed as they ran along the forest path.

Their path was a simple, well-worn road that wove between the trees and foliage. As they ran, the sun shone upon them among the dappled shadows of leaves. Owain stumbled, Inigo caught him, and the blonde laughed. His joy was infectious, and the dancer found himself laughing along, even as he was swept abruptly into a happy kiss. Then Owain pulled away and ran again, and Inigo ran with him, and they never stopped holding hands.

The sun was high in the sky by the time they left the forest. A familiar field awaited them, and in the distance, the simple village where Owain’s parents lived was as it always had been. They stood a moment simply looking, then with a joyous whoop, Owain ran ahead. Inigo laughed and called, “Wait for me!” as he ran after. Wind pulled at his short pink hair and at Owain’s loose yellow sleeves. Their path had become so narrow that the tall grasses to either side bent as they brushed by.

As they neared the village, the familiar details of the place became clearer and clearer. The sturdy wooden buildings, the well-traveled dirt roads, and the calls and chatter of the villagers echoed out long before they reached the first houses. Owain slowed as they walked through, waving to familiar faces, all smiles. Inigo squeezed his hand and led him through town, seeking the orphanage. It was a building recently added onto the church, but sadly, it had been sorely needed.

Inigo leaned in and whispered to Owain, “There it is. Are you ready?”

“Of course I am,” Owain murmured in response. His sweaty hand and nervous swallow betrayed him, however. “Inigo, I… I haven’t even met them yet and I want to adopt them all.”

“Your… enthusiasm is great, but let’s start with one,” Inigo suggested. “Come on, love. Let’s go.” He smiled, and Owain returned it, and hand-in-hand they walked into the building.

The interior was dim, but clean. Everything was of simple but sturdy wood. There were chairs along one wall, a door to the church, and along the back, a door to the rest of the orphanage. Inigo knocked on the wall, while Owain called out, “Anyone here?”

The back door opened, and a familiar figure stepped out. “How can I help you-- oh, Owain, Inigo, welcome,” Libra greeted with a warm smile.

“Uncle Libra!” Owain ran forward and hugged the priest tight. Inigo followed behind at a more casual walk. “What fortune that we find you here, on this fateful date! How fare you?”

“I have been well,” Libra replied as he returned the hug. He smiled sadly at Owain, and Inigo knew a moment of unease. “Your parents have told me of your troubles, Owain, and--”

“Th-they have?” Owain stuttered, before regaining dramatic composure. “Fear not, Uncle Libra! Though Father’s latest spell has failed, hope has yet to die within us. For that is why we are here today, to take in a soul that needs a loving home.”

“Owain,” Libra began gently, holding up a hand when the blonde would’ve continued. “I’m sorry, but… there isn’t anybody to adopt.”

Owain simply stared at Libra. Inigo stepped up beside his husband and took his hand again, disbelief in his voice, “What? You have to be joking. Times haven’t been that generous, as far as I can tell.”

“I know it’s odd,” Libra admitted, his expression gentle. “But all of the orphans have been adopted. The last child found a home early this morning.”

“Wh… what?” Owain finally managed. “Really? All of them? Are you sure?”

“Don’t worry,” Inigo quickly intervened, squeezing Owain’s hand. “We can just check the neighboring villages. We’re not giving up yet, right?”

Owain swallowed thickly, then forced a grin. “Right! This is merely a stroke of ill fortune for us, but good fortune for those children! Thank you, Uncle Libra. We shall be off!”

“Good luck, Owain, Inigo,” Libra responded solemnly. “May Naga bless you on your journey.”

Owain and Inigo spent the day traveling. Across dirt roads thin and wide, through forests and fields and towns, walking all the while. They visited every village with an orphanage, or anything similar to one. One and all, there was nobody. Every child adopted the night before or that very morning.

Owain tried to keep his spirits up, and to be happy for them, but as evening fell dark around them, he could maintain it no more. He walked with his head bowed, feet dragging on the long road back to their cabin in the woods. Inigo held his hand in silence, unsure what to say. The moon shone above them, turning every blade of grass and every leaf silvery, yet no attention was paid to the natural beauty around them. Even as they reached the forest where they lived, where a soft breeze set the foliage swaying gently, not a thing was said.

Owain stopped a few paces between the trees. Fearing the worst, Inigo peered at his love and saw the telltale wet of tears running down those dark, freckled cheeks. The blonde sobbed softly and looked away, into the deepening darkness of the forest around them. Inigo set a hand on his shoulder, feeling his heart break in sympathy. “Come now, love, we haven’t checked the whole world yet. There must be someone needing a home somewhere, I’m sure of it.”

“That should be true!” Owain all but wailed, tensing under Inigo’s hand. “Yet everywhere we go, everything we try… nothing’s working, Inigo. Nothing!” He shook off his husband’s grip and stared up at the moon through the leaves. His sorrow sparkled under the silvery glow, and his short hair seemed as if it were coalesced moonlight. “I would do anything just to have a kid! A son, a daughter, either or neither, I don’t care! Whatever curse plagues us,” he inhaled, shaky, on the verge of sobbing, but resisted long enough to finish, “I would do anything to dispel it!”

Clouds rolled over the moon, obscuring its rays, dowsing them in darkness. At the same moment, Owain fell to his knees and cried, and Inigo knelt by his side and held him close. This time, he leaned into his husband’s embrace, accepted the comfort as his sadness escaped once more.

Eventually, Inigo pressed his lips to Owain’s temple and murmured, “Owain, love, you’ll catch a cold out here. Let’s go home and warm up, ok?” His sad husband nodded a little. “Can you stand?” At the lack of further response, Inigo slid his arm under his love, and helped him up. Slowly, they walked together down the winding path to their cabin, with the only sounds being the gentle breeze and Owain’s soft, lingering sniffles.

As they rounded the final bend, and came within sight of their cabin, Inigo gasped. Owain looked up, and stared at the prone figure lying before their door, haloed by moonlight, dressed in a silver robe that could have been woven from the moon’s silver rays. They rushed over, and Owain knelt by the little girl and stared in shock. Her long, pale hair, her freckles, the shape of her face… she reminded him of his mother. Yet when her eyes opened, he saw Inigo’s hues stare back.

“Are you ok?” Inigo asked her, shock on his face. Yet he kept better composure then his red-eyed husband, for the time being. When the little girl slowly sat up, and slowly blinked at them, he asked with greater care, “Are you hurt anywhere? Why are you here?”

“You wanted me here,” she replied, her gaze locked on Owain’s. She stood, a bit shakily, and Inigo guessed that she was no older than a decade. But her eyes, colored like his own, seemed strangely blank.

“Inigo,” Owain croaked, “Inigo, I think she’s ours.” He looked to the dancer with a smile that erased all the earlier sorrow from his face. Then his attention was on the mysterious girl, and he stood and took her hand with care, “Come on, let’s get you warmed up. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you have a name?” he babbled on as he opened the door and led her inside.

Inigo stared after them, then stepped inside and closed the door. He watched as Owain lit the hearthfire, and grabbed a blanket, and settled her by it with the blanket, all the while chattering. A feeling of unease remained stubbornly in the dancer’s gut, no matter how badly he wanted to be happy for Owain. He stepped up to the two, unnerved by the girl’s blank stare.

“Inigo,” Owain began, before the dancer could even speak. Excitement sparkled in his pale green eyes. “She told me she came from the forest! And she was sent to answer my plea! And she doesn’t have a name. Oh, what should we name her? I know you didn’t like Lord of Hyperdeath, but I think Ophelia would fit her better anyway--”

“Owain, love, wait,” Inigo interrupted gently. He glanced at the little girl, who was so silent and still that she could’ve been a lifelike statue. Looking back to Owain, the pure joy and relief and hope on the man’s face made him falter. “Let’s… let’s at least look around town, and make sure she isn’t someone else’s,” he finished lamely.

“Oh, that,” Owain hesitated. “That’s… a good idea. But it’s late now, we should do that tomorrow. Right?” He grinned and, as if struck by inspiration, added, “In fact, we should make sure she stays safe. You should go into town, and I'll stay here and look after her.”

Inigo frowned, but he couldn’t bear to take away his love’s joy. Not after all of the heartbreak. “Ok, Owain. For now, she can borrow our guest room. We should sleep, too.”

“Of course! I’ll join you in slumber soon, my love,” Owain promised, hopping up. He took the little girl’s hand and helped her stand with gentle care. “Come, Ophelia, allow me to show you your room!” Despite his obvious excitement, he walked, and she followed.

Inigo watched until they were out of sight before beginning his own nighttime ritual. As he changed, he prayed his deep unease was just paranoia. But in his heart, he was wary. He planned to do more then look for potential parents for this child of the forest; he intended to speak to the best mage in town about what had happened. After all, Owain’s dad had to find out sooner or later.


	2. Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To give too much of oneself...

Inigo smiled at his husband when he left and hummed as he walked along the path. After he followed the bend, out of sight and hearing range, his cheery demeanor fell away to a worried silence. He hardly noticed the birdsong or bright sunshine, for his thoughts were as dark as the shadows of the forest. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Owain wished so desperately for a child, and one showed up out of nowhere.

The sun brightened beyond the trees, and Inigo had to shield his face to see the distant village of his husband’s childhood. As he walked through the narrow path to his destination, he couldn’t help but glance back. Would Owain be ok? He doubted the mysterious girl could do anything physically harmful, but he knew very little about magic, and that lack of knowing only fed his worry. After all, this whole incident had to be magical in nature, and if it was, then father-in-law Henry might know what to do.

Nearly walking into someone’s cottage jolted Inigo out of his reverie. He stumbled back and glanced around, making sure nobody saw that. Satisfied, he stepped around the building and resumed his walk, seeking a particular home. It was a familiar yellow cottage, warm and sturdy. Flowers lined the simple dirt path to the door, just as they did whenever Inigo’s family visited in the past. He strode up to the door and knocked, trying to suppress his nervous butterflies.

After a few moments, the door opened to a familiar face, with familiar curly blonde hair worn loose and free. “Inigo! We heard you and Owain were in town yesterday. Why didn’t you stop by?” Lissa pouted at him, but her smile quickly won over. “Come in, come in! Where is Owain, anyway?” she asked while she let him in the house, closing the door behind him.

“He’s busy,” Inigo hedged while trying not to meet Lissa’s incredibly suspicious stare. “Actually, is Henry here? I was hoping he could help with a… thing. A something.”

“He’s here, but if something’s happened to Owain, you’re gonna tell both of us,” Lissa asserted, eyes narrowing. Before Inigo could even agree, she was trotting off. With nothing better to do, he followed.

The house was much as it always was in recent memory, or so it seemed to Inigo’s brief look around as they walked. Despite the simple country cottage, the furniture was of high-quality. The rugs were intricate, the surfaces clean, and all of it contrasted by the various spell reagents that Henry left lying around. Stray dried flowers, jars of withered things, and even a spellbook sat half-open upon the table. Hung along the hallway walls were a few pictures, paintings of Owain’s royal relatives in the city and of a younger Lissa among them. 

For the second time that day, Inigo nearly ran into something, or someone. He managed not to trip over Lissa, who’d stopped abruptly to knock at a door he remembered all too well. Mostly because his parents told him not to go into Henry’s magic room, whereas the man himself had happily shown him all the strange and interesting things inside. But that was years ago.

“Henry, Inigo needs to talk to us!” Lissa called. “It’s important and Owain’s in trouble!”

Inigo was about to comment that he hadn’t even said anything about Owain’s problem yet, when a familiar pale man poked his face out. “Heya, kiddo! Owain’s in trouble, huh?”

“Yes,” Inigo admitted with a sigh. “You see, we found this-- well, no, I should start… well, ok, you know how--”

“Hold on,” Lissa interrupted, “Let’s all go have a seat, and you can tell us what the problem is.” Her frown softened as she patted Inigo’s hand. “We’ll get it solved, I promise.” Then she led them to the couch, where Henry plopped down with visibly less enthusiasm then usual. Inigo found himself at the end of the couch. Henry’s narrow purple eyes were barely open and fixed on him, while Lissa’ stare was a frowny attempt at bravery. Taking a deep breath, Inigo went through their troubles and difficulties, all the details he could give, until he finally ended with the events of the prior night.

“So, Owain made a dramatic declaration to the sky, but then you actually found a little girl?” Lissa asked, eyes wide. Whether from awe or disbelief, Inigo wasn’t certain, but he nodded to her question.

“That sounds magical,” Henry mused, but his slitted-open eyes were far away, and even his usual smile was weak. “You should keep an eye on the little girl, Inigo, and on Owain, too. The forest doesn’t give freely.”

“I told Owain that living in a forest rumored to be magical was a bad idea,” Lissa muttered. Henry patted her hand.

“Well, I’ll try to keep an eye on them,” Inigo agreed uneasily, “but is that all I can do? Isn’t there any legends or rituals or… something you know that can help?”

“Nope!” Henry smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “But I’ll look through all my books, and ask all my mage friends, and we’ll tell you as soon as we find something, alright?”

“Oh, and I’ll go ask Libra,” Lissa added, straightening up. “We’ll do our own research. So, keep Owain safe until we find something!”

“I will, thank you both,” Inigo began, interrupted by his own ‘oof’ as Lissa gave him a hug. “Don’t worry, your son is safe with me.”

“Hey, if we’re lucky, this is a good thing,” Henry suggested. His eyes were closed again, seemingly. “Maybe the forest likes Owain! But anyways, you should get back to him now, just in case! You need anything before you go, kiddo?”

Inigo smiled slightly at the childhood nickname. “Oh, no, we’re good, but thank you.” He stood and stretched, reluctant, but suddenly anxious to go. “Really, thank you guys. I’ll let you know if anything changes, I swear.”

“We will, too. Now be safe on the way back!” Lissa said, practically pushing Inigo out the door.

But before he was all the way out, Henry stepped beside them. “Say, Inigo, Owain thinks you want a kid real bad too, right?” Inigo nodded uncomfortably. “As bad as he does?”

“Well,” Inigo began, stopped. “I mean, it’s… it would be nice…”

Henry waved a hand, and Inigo quieted. “Well, if Owain thinks you’re as desperate as he is, but you’re not… I wonder if the forest knows that.” The mage tilted his head, considering. “Wording really matters with wild spirits, and so does intent. Keep that in mind, Inigo.”

“I… I will,” Inigo managed, as Lissa finally pushed him out the door. He hurried down the path, trying to ignore the increased anxiety in his chest. The setting of the sun surprised him, and he broke into a jog, wondering how the time had passed, knowing it would be evening before he was home.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Inigo had said he would be gone most of the day, and Owain was fine with that. It gave the giddy blonde a chance to show Ophelia around their cottage. After seeing his husband off, he rushed back inside, to where his wonderful new daughter was staring at breakfast.

“Dearest Ophelia, what troubles you? Is something wrong with the eggs?” Owain asked, leaning over the table to inspect his cooking.

Ophelia stared at her plate, and simply asked, “What do I do with this?”

“Whuh,” the question caught Owain off-guard, and he privately admitted that maybe Inigo had a reason to worry. Of course, he quickly pushed that thought far, far away. “Well, you eat it! Your body needs food to sustain itself, my dear daughter. You must absorb the energy held within, and grow your own power!” At her blank stare, he relented, and pulled up a chair. “I, uh, I’ll show you how.”

Luckily, Ophelia could pick up basic tasks fairly quickly. She learned all the basics of being a human merely during the morning hours. When noon struck, Owain took her outside and taught her how to read time from the position of the sun. He taught her how to identify good wood for a fire, and what plants were and weren’t safe for humans, and some other basic camping tricks that served forest-dwellers well.

Owain led her back inside for lunch while telling the story of when he and Inigo became lost in the deep forest for a week. She listened as silently and attentively as she’d been all day, not a hint of emotion on her face. He couldn’t fully push away his worry, not when he got to the funny part and she didn’t even crack a smile. As they walked into the kitchen, he began looking through their supplies, wondering what to make. Even while eating, she didn’t change her expression. He led her to her room and pointed out her toys, and she merely stared and asked, “What are those?”

“Toys, my dearest daughter,” Owain explained. He picked up a little wooden horse and moved it on the ground, “This is a brave steed for a brave princess.” He made the little horse neigh and grinned at her, but his grin faded as she stared at the horse. Another toy was brought out, its purpose explained, but she simply watched, impassive. Eventually, she tugged at his sleeve to get his attention, and he looked to her with hopeful surprise, “Yes, Ophelia? Do you want to play with the boat?”

Not for the first time, those eyes, so like Inigo’s, stared right through him with a lack of emotion that was so unlike anyone Owain knew. “May I have your anger?”

“My… what?” Owain stared blankly at the little girl, the toy boat totally forgotten. He had to have misheard. “My anger? Why would you want that, dear?”

“I’m not a person yet,” Ophelia explained, without a twinge of emotion, without a change in tone. “I’m missing something. I think I’m missing emotions. May I have yours, one at a time, one for each day, until I’m a person?”

Owain felt an unpleasant twist in his gut. Inigo had been right to be worried, but the dancer wasn’t here right now. Looking upon Ophelia’s unchanging, blank expression, awaiting an answer, Owain found himself tempted to say yes. He’d wanted a child so badly, to raise a family with the one he loved most in this harsh world. How far would he go? Would he take the chance, give away bits of himself to have a daughter?

“Yes,” he whispered. Yes, he would do this for her. He asked for her, and something answered. He wouldn’t go back on that now. He’d do it for her. He’d do it for them. “Yes. What do I need to do, Ophelia?”

Only then did she blink, he noticed. “Thank you for your permission. I will take your emotions each time you sleep.”

“Oh, uh. Alright.” Owain glanced at his half-finished cooking preparations, then looked to Ophelia again, at her young face, so cute yet so cold with utter nothingness. He forced a smile. “For now, I shall bestow upon you the secret name of this boat.”

It was evening before Inigo made it home. He burst in through the door and found Owain and Ophelia by the fire, the former regaling the latter with a familiar story. Despite his worry, the dancer found himself smiling at the memories that his loves’ story brought forth.

“--and we barely crossed, escaping the slavering horde,” Owain said, gesturing for emphasis. The light from the hearth lit his features for extra effect, yet Ophelia simply stared at him, as blankly as when Inigo had left.

“Having fun?” Inigo asked as he approached. He tried to sound light and casual, but he couldn’t hide the tightness of his throat. When Owain looked at him, he winced at the echo of unease on his husband’s forced smile.

“Yes! I was just regaling Ophelia with tales of our heroic past,” Owain explained unnecessarily. He stood and embraced Inigo, tight and tense, and the dancer’s unease worsened. “Love, did you find anything?”

It took Inigo a moment to remember what Owain meant. “Oh, uh, no, nobody in the village knew about her.” He stared into Owain’s eyes, pale grey-green meeting his gaze. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but his mouth wouldn’t move. Should he tell Owain about his real meeting? He glanced to the side and found Ophelia staring at them both. Could he say anything around her? The quiet stretched on, and he realized that Owain had been likewise still and silent.

Then Owain leaned in and kissed him once, briefly, and the spell was broken. “Great! I’m positive she’s meant for us, Inigo, and I’m determined to raise her well. Are you?” The anxiety in Owain’s gaze was offset by the hope in his voice, a tone that Inigo had so badly wanted to hear. Henry’s warning about intent echoed, but the dancer couldn’t break his love’s heart. Not when he’d wanted this so very badly.

“I am,” Inigo managed something mostly akin to his usual smile, “We’ll take good care of her, Owain, I know it. So don’t worry, love.” He clasped Owain’s hands and tried to feel happy at his love’s obvious relief, but he just couldn’t share the feeling. “Now, let’s go make dinner.”

The rest of the evening passed by uneventfully. Yet despite the delicious dinner, despite a calm evening by the hearthfire, despite the usual bedtime rituals, Inigo couldn’t shake off his anxiety. It only worsened as the hours crept by. He lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling until Owain slipped in beside him.

“Goodnight, Inigo, my Indigo Dancer,” Owain whispered. Something in his night-soft tone made Inigo look towards his voice, though he couldn’t see anything in the darkness. “No matter what trials we face in this world, my love for you will never fade.”

“Owain,” Inigo whispered in return. The anxiety that sat like a heavy lump inside him felt suddenly sharp, and he drew in a breath. “I love you so much. No matter what happens, I’ll always love you, too.” He felt his husband squeeze his hand, and they curled together, taking comfort in each other’s warmth until exhausted sleep found them both.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next day, Inigo woke up to Owain’s soft snoring. He frowned and shook the blonde’s shoulder, but his husband just sleep-snorted. Reluctantly, he rose, and laid out clothes for his sleeping beloved before starting his morning routine.

The oddness of being awake first, when Owain was such a joyful early riser, only reminded Inigo of the anxiety lump that sat heavy within. He cleaned and dressed and, seeing Owain still asleep, went to Ophelia’s room to check on her. As he opened the door, he yelped in surprise and stumbled back.

“What?” asked the girl in question, her usually-blank gaze altered by something. Inigo could almost swear it was annoyance.

“I was just checking on you,” Inigo stuttered. He cleared his throat and managed to smile. “Could you wake up your other dad while I start breakfast, sweetie?”

Ophelia actually frowned, and Inigo did a double-take. But before he could find words, she replied, “Fine,” and walked down the hall to their room. He stared after her in disbelief, then shook it off and jogged to the kitchen.

By the time breakfast was ready and on the table, Ophelia had led a groggy Owain to his chair. Inigo eyed him with concern as he sat down. “Hey, love. Did you sleep ok?”

“What?” Owain yawned and rubbed at his eyes, but he couldn’t quite hide how tense he was. Still, he smiled, and ruffled Ophelia’s hair despite her frown. “My slumber had just delayed my awakening. Thank you for the divine spread, my dancing darling.” He winked and tucked into his food without another word. Ophelia picked at hers before finally settling in, a sharp contrast to the mechanical eating she’d been doing. Inigo managed to eat, despite fighting the unease that threatened his every swallow.

That day was their usual cleaning day. Inigo handled the bathroom, hallway, and their room, while Owain handled the main room and kitchen, and would help Ophelia with her room. The routine took the edge off Inigo’s worry, and his thoughts were on his tasks for most of the day.

That was until he walked down the hallway, during one of many back-and-forth trips necessary to extensive cleaning. He happened to glance into Ophelia’s room, and smiled without thinking. The little girl stood by her bed, watching as Owain stood on the very edge, showing her how to clean the ceiling.

“You’ll need a ladder to reach this high, but we can get you one later,” Owain said, cheer in his voice. “And don’t forget to always be careful! When you’re reaching--”

He leaned too far to the side, and his bare foot slipped off the bed sheets. With a startled yelp he hit the floor, cushioned only by the simple rug. Inigo ran into the room before he consciously thought about to do so, and knelt to help the blonde sit up. “Owain? Are you ok? What were you thinking?”

Ophelia knelt by Owain’s other side, but glared at her bed. “Stupid bed,” she growled at it. Inigo stared at her, then noticed Owain doing the same, mirroring his shock. Then Owain relaxed, and pulled Ophelia into a hug.

“I’m fine,” Owain finally said. His grey-green eyes were faintly glossy as he smiled at Inigo, “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“I hope so,” Inigo managed as he helped Owain stand. The blonde tested his foot, and they were both relieved that it didn’t sprain. Ophelia kept pouting at her bed even as Owain resumed showing her how to clean her room, albeit only the parts she could reach from the floor.

It wasn’t until night, when Inigo and Owain were curled together beneath the sheets, that the dancer realized what was odd. Owain hadn’t cursed or pouted or shown any sign of anger, not even briefly, not even as a reaction to bruising his hip. Ophelia, on the other hand, was only acting annoyed, or frustrated, or almost as blank as before. The too-familiar fears swam in circles around Inigo’s mind, and kept him up most of the night.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next morning, Owain stubbornly slept in again. Inigo staggered through his routine, thoughts still going in circles. Should he tell Henry? Could he leave Owain alone with Ophelia? She wasn’t hurting him, but their behavior, mostly hers, had changed so drastically…

This time, Inigo didn’t ask Ophelia to wake Owain up. He set breakfast aside for his slumbering husband, and watched the little girl approach the food-laden table with visible uncertainty. Pulling a chair out for her, he sat while she clambered up.

“Are you feeling alright, Ophelia?” Inigo asked with a concerned smile. She made him uneasy, but he couldn’t ignore her worried look. He wasn’t that heartless.

Ophelia barely glanced at Inigo before her gaze slid to the bacon and eggs, where it stuck fast. She picked at her food before finally mumbling, “Yeah.”

“You seem tense,” Inigo pressed. He leaned against the table, but couldn’t catch her gaze. “Ophelia.” The name made her startle, and he winced despite himself. “Dear, what are you doing to Owain?” He winced again, having not meant to be so blunt, yet the words slipped out before he could stop them.

Ophelia stiffened, then grabbed her plate and dashed to her room. Inigo stood, chair nearly tipping over in the process, but her door slammed shut before he made it out of the kitchen. He stared at the closed door and ran his hands down his face, just as Owain’s sleepy head poked out of their room.

“What’s going on?” Owain asked with a yawn.

“N-nothing,” Inigo stuttered, before clearing his throat. “Breakfast is waiting for you. Are you sleeping ok?” While he spoke, he watched Owain emerge from their room. The blonde was dressed, if with less care than usual. He found himself smoothing out his husband’s clothes, and getting a smile in return.

“I’m just wearing myself out, that’s all,” Owain claimed. Something about his smile was sad, but he pulled Inigo into a warm hug and a lingering kiss anyway. “The lady of slumber wishes for my company, but I resist her wiles to return to this world, and to you, my love.” He winked, and Inigo smiled, filled with warmth.

Still, Inigo’s anxiety would not stay at bay for long. He finished the cleaning while Owain took Ophelia all over their cottage, apparently intent on teaching her everything he could. This was done sporadically: a story about a past battle would turn into a self-defense lesson, which somehow became math, which Owain skipped over to try and teach Ophelia some magic, instead. Despite his lingering reservations, the dancer found himself stopping just to watch, and smile, and even throw in his two silver to whatever the current lesson was.

By the end of the day, his unease warred with his growing warmth. Ophelia still never smiled, but she was showing more and more emotion. That had to be good, or so Inigo hoped since Owain, seemingly, acted the same as usual. That night, Inigo slept a little better than before.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Inigo stepped out of the bedroom, letting Owain sleep in again. He debated on visiting Lissa and Henry again, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to go alone. Then he nearly tripped over Ophelia and yelped from surprise.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. Her gaze reluctantly slid up to meet his, and his heart ached at her sadness. “Dad? Do you… do you love me?”

“Oh, Ophelia,” Inigo breathed. Did he love her? This strange girl, who appeared because of Owain’s desperate plea? Who seemed more and more human each day? He could almost forget his husband’s brief strangeness in the face of watching them, more often playing together then playing teacher and student. “Of course I love you,” he said, aware that he’d been silent too long. He didn’t think he loved as a father loved their daughter, not yet, but he would be sad if something happened to her. At least, he was pretty sure he would, and with that thought he lay a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, sweetie, let’s get breakfast started, and then we can talk about taking a trip soon.”

“A trip?” Ophelia asked as she followed. No joy filled her voice, but at least there was emotion at all, even if it was unease.

“Mhm. You should meet your grandparents. Owain’s parents. Mine aren’t in town yet, but they should be in a month or so,” Inigo explained while walking about the kitchen. He glanced at her, and saw her nod. He smiled, but her return smile wasn’t happy. It was sad, much as Owain’s had been the day before. He pushed the comparison away before he could dwell on it too much.

“Good morning, loves of my life!” Owain chirruped as he joined them. Despite looking baggy-eyed and unkempt from some unnatural fatigue, he smiled as if everything was right in the world. He swept Inigo into his arms and kissed soundly, then sat beside Ophelia and hugged her and kissed her temple before digging in.

“You’re awfully cheerful today,” Inigo commented, more from surprise then any dismay. He glanced to Ophelia, but she remained focused on her own food.

“There is naught but cheer left in my heart,” Owain said, a touch softly before returning to his usual volume when happy. “Today, I plan to teach Ophelia the basics of magic! But I am no master mage. For that, she will need to meet a legendary wizard, a spellcaster of special skill--”

“How about your dad?” Inigo suggested.

Owain didn’t even look surprised, oddly enough. He simply grinned. “Exactly! Truly, our hearts are as one, my indigo dancer.”

“They must be,” Inigo agreed. He couldn’t help but grin at his dorky husband. Was it only a few days ago, when his love couldn’t stop crying? “I was just telling Ophelia that we should visit your parents soon.”

Owain sat up with excitement, then abruptly sat back down, yet his proud grin never wavered. “How about tomorrow? In fact,” he stood again and ducked into the next room. Inigo looked at Ophelia, who seemed as confused as he was. Owain’s head poked back in the kitchen, “Inigo, come on!” before disappearing.

With a shrug, the dancer followed, telling Ophelia before he left, “Finish your food, ok sweetie?” She nodded, and Inigo went into the main room. Owain paced by the fire, his grin faded to a more relaxed smile. The dancer found himself pulled into warm, strong arms, and he readily relaxed, though something felt wrong.

“Inigo, love, I was thinking,” Owain began, even as he leaned in to rest his forehead against Inigo’s. His grey-green eyes shone bright with joy. “I’ve been jealousy hoarding all of Ophelia’s attention, but you’ve hardly had any time to spend with her. How about you take her to see my parents tomorrow?”

“Without you?” Inigo asked, pulling his head away from surprised. “I’m sure they want to see you too, Owain. They must miss you terribly.” In fact, they’d probably really wanna see Owain, considering the last visit.

Owain shook his head slightly, “Not tomorrow. I… have to prepare some things.” His smile was soft, yet seemed to be lacking something. “I promise, it shall be worth your while, love. So spend time with Ophelia, I beg of you. Tomorrow, before I even arise. Promise me.”

Inigo looked into his eyes, and saw only happiness. Only trust. Only love. He sighed, and rested against Owain’s broad, warm frame. “Oh, fine. But whatever surprise you’re preparing had better be important.”

“Thank you, love. It will be,” Owain promised, and peppered kissed atop Inigo’s head. “Now, let’s not keep our princess waiting.” He darted back into the kitchen with a skip in his step, his dancer suddenly bereft of his warmth.

Inigo frowned to himself, wondering at this boundless joy. It lasted the rest of the day, varying in strength, and yet the only thing that Owain displayed was happiness. Softly, loudly, comfortably, full of energy… and all full of delight. Owain spent the day teaching Ophelia what little he remembered of magic, and a little swordplay to be safe. Inigo helped where he could, but mostly watched. His thoughts gnawed at him until bedtime, and kept him awake for half the night. As he finally drifted to sleep, his last thoughts puzzled at the vague, heavy sense of loss that refused to leave him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please trust me regarding Ophelia’s character, that is all.


	3. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To forgive, to heal, to love...

As promised, Inigo rose and dressed as soon as he was awake. Owain slept in, as he’d been doing the past few days. The dancer laid clothes out for his husband, and made sure breakfast was made for when the blonde arose. He packed some food and other things, and by the time Ophelia was awake and leaving her room, he was ready to go.

As soon as Ophelia spotted him, she gasped and exclaimed, “Good morning, Father!” To Inigo’s frozen shock, she ran up to him and hugged him tight. Her smile was so much like her father’s, no, like Lissa’s. He stared, and her happy smile became a serious frown. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

“No, I… are you feeling ok?” Inigo managed. This was the first time she’d remotely seemed happy. He had no idea what to make of it.

“I’m great!” She asserted, but her expression was subtly tinted with unease. “Nothing can stop me today! Is breakfast… wait, no. Is the ritual of breakfast complete?” Her frown returned, thoughtful this time. “No, that’s not good either… ah, wait. Is the ritual breakfast prepared?” Her triumphant grin melted through some of Inigo’s shock, and he managed to nod. “Thank you! I shall hurry so that we may… uh. I will hurry so that our journey can go on!” She rushed into the kitchen, nearly tripping on the way.

“Ophelia,” Inigo began as he followed. She was already scarfing the food down with determined enthusiasm, but she slowed when he asked, “Why are you trying to talk like Ow-- your dad?”

“Because I want to be a great hero, just like you two are,” Ophelia explained. “And the way he talks is really cool. But don’t worry, Father! I like how you talk, too.” She winked with a playful smile, then resumed her ravenous munching.

Inigo continued to be amazed. Ophelia insisted on carrying their pack, and not only was she happy, but she expressed everything from impatience to unease to sorrow, this last when she learned Owain wouldn’t be joining them; in short, she seemed completely human. She was so different from the emotionless shell that he’d first met, a mere few nights ago.

The sunny day seemed to fit her mood. She ran ahead out of the cottage and had to wait for Inigo to catch up. “Come on, Father! The day waits for nobody! Wait, no…” she trailed off, and fell into step beside the dancer. “Father, how does Dad do it?”

“You know, I’m not sure,” Inigo admitted. “He’s always had a knack for the dramatic. You should ask him that when we get back.” On a whim, he ruffled her hair, and her wide smile felt like more of a reward then he expected it to be.

Inigo told himself to remain wary, but it was so hard to do it when Ophelia was such a ray of sunshine. She grabbed his hand and led him on, only to let go when she found a stick she liked. It became her magic wand, and she pointed it at birds in flight, at squirrels fleeing up the trees, and at anything that caught her fancy.

As they stepped out of the forest, Inigo gently caught her by the arm. “Ophelia, love. You might want to leave the stick behind.”

“What?” Ophelia frowned at her stick in obvious disappointment. “But why? A sorceress needs a focus for her magic! Dad said so.”

“Your dad’s right, she does,” Inigo agreed as he knelt down. He curled his hand over hers, where she held the twig tightly. “But we’re going to visit your Grandpa Henry, and he can get you a much better focus for your magic.” That, and the dancer didn’t want her accidentally poking an eye out, but she didn’t need to know that.

At the promise of a better focus, her eyes widened, and her grip loosened enough that the stick fell to the ground, forgotten. “Really? Then what are we waiting for? Father, let us go to Grandpa Henry!” She grabbed Inigo’s hand and began to run through the narrow field path, towards the distant village of Owain’s birth. With a startled laugh, Inigo readily followed and managed to hold her hand all the way there.

By the time they reached the first house, however, Inigo was quite winded. “H-hold on,” he panted, stumbling to a halt. He leaned against the wall and hoped the homeowner wouldn’t mind. “Father needs a break, sweetie.”

Ophelia, despite her own obvious fatigue, hopped from foot to foot as she waited. Inigo straightened and groaned, mentally reminding himself to insist on walking home that night. He looked to his daughter and smiled at her obvious impatience. “Ok, sweetie. Father needs to walk for now, but don’t worry, your grandparents’ house isn’t far away.” She immediately brightened and, hand-in-hand, they walked through the town until they reached Lissa & Henry’s humble home.

“Anyone home?” Inigo called as he knocked. Ophelia peered about the closed door as if she could somehow see inside, and he couldn’t help but smile at her impatience. Then she jumped back with a gasp as the door suddenly swung inward, revealing a familiar white-haired fellow.

“Maybe, maybe not!” Henry answered in a cheery sing-song. “Hey, Inigo!” His narrow gaze opened just a tiny bit as he spotted Ophelia, but of course his smile remained. “Who’s the cutie?”

“Are you my grandpa?” Ophelia asked with wide-eyed reverence.

Henry hummed thoughtfully, “I might be!” He kneeled to be eye-level with Ophelia and looked her over, then reached out to ruffle her hair. “Wow! You look just like your parents! Where’d you come from, little one?”

“The forest!” Ophelia grinned up at Henry proudly. “Daddy wished really hard, and here I am!”

“Is that so?” Henry asked. He stood and stepped back, letting Ophelia run in. As Inigo followed at a walk, Henry glanced outside. “Hmm. No Owain today?”

“Not today. He insisted on staying home,” Inigo explained, feeling his smile grow puzzled despite himself. “He said something about preparations?” When Henry simply shrugged, Inigo sighed. “I, uh, don’t know what he meant.”

“Me neither, but come on. We should talk,” Henry said, and Inigo obediently stepped inside. As the door closed and his eyes adjusted to the light, the dancer saw that Ophelia was already running around, marveling at the fancy furniture and decorations and everything new to her.

Lissa was just exiting the kitchen when she spotted the two guests, and was spotted in turn. “Hello!” Ophelia chirped as she ran right up to the startled woman. “Are you my grandma?”

Lissa took in Ophelia’s face, the blonde hair, the adorable smile that she returned. Yet despite the suspicious narrowing of her eyes, Inigo was pretty sure Lissa’s leaning down to hug the girl was quite genuine. “I might be!” she said.

“That’s what grandpa said!” Ophelia gasped. Over the girl’s shoulder, Lissa and Henry shared a look that Inigo barely caught. Then the mage led the dancer away, quietly, to his study, while Lissa was saying something about pancakes to the happy girl. Then the door closed, and all sound from outside was shut out, leaving only dim candlelight and the myriad of odd smells that Henry’s study always had.

Henry sat at his desk, and Inigo took a nearby seat as usual. For a moment, he remembered sitting upon this seat as a child with Owain, watching in wide-eyed wonder as a crow was conjured from darkness. They’d laughed and clapped as it flew around, only to disappear into smoke.

“Inigo,” Henry began, breaking Inigo free of the memory, “Tell me what happened.” The slitted purple gaze fixed upon Inigo firmly as the dancer told his tale, leaving out nothing. From the time he went back home from this very house mere days ago, up until that morning. The mage listened attentively, his smile never quite leaving but subtly wavering with his thoughtful hums and hms. As the story wound to a close, Henry straightened and said, “I think I know what’s happening.” Inigo quickly stood, but managed to close his mouth when the mage continued, “She’s a kind of forest fae, a spirit, who heard Owain’s call and decided to answer. But she isn’t a human. She wants to be, she’s trying to figure it out, but she isn’t.”

“How do we make her human?” Inigo asked, and surprised himself. Was he already so fond of the excitable little girl? Then another worry made itself known, and his voice trembled, “Will Owain be ok?”

“Oh sure, he’ll be fine,” Henry replied. But his smile, wavering as it had been, finally fell when he admitted, “He’ll live. But he won’t have any emotions left. No anger, or fear, or sadness, or joy… nothing.”

“No!” Inigo shouted, not caring for his own volume. “No, that can’t… no, he was fine when I left…” he trailed off. He knew it was true. No anger, no fear, no sadness, and when he got home… “No, Owain… Owain can’t be stuck like this! He doesn’t deserve this!”

“He doesn’t,” Henry agreed. He stood and caught Inigo’s shoulders, gentle pressure suggesting the dancer sit, and so he reluctantly did. “But it’s not permanent. If Ophelia gives them back before a week has passed, then he’ll be right as rain.”

Inigo almost slumped with relief before he realized Henry still wasn’t smiling. “But… I just have to convince her to do that, right? Then Owain will be ok. Everything will be ok.”

“Well, not really,” Henry admitted. “You’ll have to decide if you want Ophelia to stick around or not. Without anything making her human, she can really easily become a spirit again, and I really don’t think you’d see her ever again if that happened.”

“I… I think I do,” Inigo began. He swallowed nervously as Henry’s pale brows rose. “I know Owain’s been the one who really wanted a kid, and I just sort of went with it. But… that’s a decision we should agree on. Since we’re living together, and… and I don’t want her to go away,” he hiccuped as his brief ramble ended.

“I mean, I was just gonna say that all Owain had to do was only include himself when sending his love out, but if you help it’ll probably work out better,” Henry chirped, smile returned as if it never left. At Inigo’s blank stare, he elaborated, “Love is it’s own special kind of magic, kiddo. With enough of it, you can do some amazing stuff. In this case, if love summoned her, love can make her whole! I’m pretty sure, anyway.”

“You mean, I… just have to really love her too? That’s it?” Inigo asked, baffled.

“Well, pretty much, yeah. You should get Owain his emotions back first, though,” Henry suggested. “Then go out to that magical forest and just do whatever Owain did, and hopefully that works!”

“And if it doesn’t?” Inigo asked. Henry could only shrug. The dancer sighed and ran a hand through his disheveled pink hair. “Alright. Well… it’s worth a shot. Thanks, Henry.”

“No problem! Now let’s go check on Lissa,” Henry suggested. They left the study and made their way to the kitchen. Within, Lissa was watching Ophelia try to make star-shaped pancakes. Glancing back, the blonde woman smiled and waved, but there was a question in her face. With a subtle nod, Henry stepped in and chirped, “Hey, Ophelia! What’cha makin’?”

At the same moment, Lissa stepped out, dragging Inigo by the arm until they reached her bedroom, where she demanded, “Ok Inigo, you better tell me what happened!” Her anger turned to horror as Inigo re-explained the past few days, and then her expression became thoughtful as he told her of his and Henry’s talk. She paced around the room, then abruptly turned and faced Inigo with distinct determination. “Well, what are you waiting for?! You need to talk to Ophelia right now! You need to go home to Owain! Right now! And when this is all sorted out, then we can have a nice visit.” She pushed Inigo out the door even as she spoke, then dragged him back to the kitchen.

“That’s how you make the points!” Henry was saying while demonstrating how to make even star-shaped pancakes. Ophelia giggled with glee and, upon spotting the two entering, she waved.

“Father, look! We’re making stars!” she laughed. “We’re gonna eat them, too! We’re gonna eat stars!”

Inigo looked to the pancake batter, arranged in shapes both starry and… well, attempts at stars. He looked to Ophelia’s proud smile and felt warmth in his chest. Yes, he admitted he wanted her to be human. But first… “Ophelia, sweetie, we have to go home.”

“But we’re making stars!” Ophelia protested, her grin falling away like so much shattered glass.

“Don’t worry, we’ll finish them and save them for when you get back!” Henry promised while giving her head a little pat. “Then Owain can have some stars, too.”

“We’ll see you again soon, ok?” Lissa added as she gave Ophelia a hug. The little girl nodded, sulking, before she walked up to Inigo and took his hand.

“We’ll… be back when we’re back,” Inigo managed. He looked from Henry to Lissa, meeting their eyes. They understood. With a final farewell, the dancer led his pouty forest-spirit-daughter out of the house. Together, they walked through and out of the village, through the path to their forest home. The sun was beginning to set, painting the cloudy sky in brilliant shades of orange. When they reached the trees, Inigo stopped and knelt by Ophelia, looking into her curious freckled face. “Ophelia, sweetie, we need to talk about something.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “What about?” she asked, but her voice was off.

“Sweetie,” Inigo began, hesitated. He was sure she guessed, sure she knew, but he had to say it. “Ophelia, I… I love seeing you so happy and life-like.” The surprise on her face hurt, but he had to continue. “I love having you as a daughter. More than I ever thought before, when even Owain cried before my eyes, I want to start a family with him. I want to watch you learn and grow up. But,” he swallowed back his tears, “we can’t do that if Owain isn’t himself. I couldn’t bear to see him… to see him as you had been, when we first met. Please, give him back his emotions, and we’ll find a different way. Please, Ophelia.”

“But,” Ophelia began to protest. Her eyes became glossy and her face scrunched up, so similar to Owain’s bouts of sadness. “But I don’t know how! I just wanna be a person!” She sniffled and, without thinking, Inigo pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt Daddy. He said it was ok!”

“He did--” Inigo stopped himself and sighed. Of course Owain said it was ok. Damnit, Owain. “Sweetie, it’s ok. Grandpa Henry had an idea, and we’re gonna try that. If it doesn’t work, we’ll figure something out. Ok?” He leaned back and looked into her teary-red face. When she nodded, he smiled for her, “Good. So, just give Owa-- erm, Daddy back his feelings, and we’ll solve this. Will you promise to do that?”

“I promise,” she sniffled. “I promise.” They hugged again, tightly. As Inigo stood and took her hand, she looked up at him and spoke, so softly that his heart ached, “I love you, Father.”

“I love you too, sweetie,” Inigo choked, and found the words to be wholly true. He squeezed her little hand gently, and together they walked along the forest path. The air was cool, oddly so; the birds did not sing, the insects did not chirp. They were both silent as they walked, though as they rounded the bend and came into view of the cottage, Inigo felt dread settle in his heart. He knew Owain and Ophelia’s emotional changes had occurred at night; how would he find Owain right now, then?

Inigo stepped up to the door and opened it, peering inside. The room was dim as the setting sun was its only light, streaming through windows left open. The hearth lay cold, and so many things lay undisturbed from yesterday. Ophelia ran in past him and slowed down, her hopeful expression turning to confusion as she looked around.

“Where’s Daddy?” Ophelia asked as she turned back to Inigo, but the dancer could only shrug.

“I don’t know, sweetie. Why don’t you get ready for bed soon, and I’ll go look for him?” Inigo suggested as he glanced around. He felt a tiny hand grip his, and looked down to a determined little face.

“I want to look with you,” Ophelia insisted. In that moment, he was reminded of Lissa.

Inigo smiled, despite how sick with worry he was. “Ok, sweetie,” he whispered, “Let’s look together.” She smiled back, and they began looking in each room. The living area was obviously empty, so next they checked the kitchen. The stove was cold, and when Inigo looked through the cupboards, he found only a little food missing, things easily eaten without much preparation. Inigo ended up grabbing a candle, as no part of the cottage had been lit.

Each room they checked was the same. Empty, barely disturbed if at all. The bathroom, Ophelia’s room, the closet, the guest room… and last, they stood before the closed bedroom door. Inigo took a shaky breath and squeeze Ophelia’s little hand again; he felt her grip tighten in return.

Slowly, Inigo pushed the door open. The faint light of his candle barely illuminated the room, but it was enough. He gasped.

Sitting upright upon the bed, atop the covers, still in his nightclothes, Owain stared at them. There was nothing on his face. He didn’t get up and hug them, he didn’t exclaim with excitement, he didn’t say a thing. The lack of anything in his pale eyes made Inigo’s heart stop.

While Inigo stood frozen in the doorway, Ophelia let go of his hand and ran up to the bed. She crawled upon the sheets and threw her arms around Owain, who didn’t even twitch. With a soft sob, she said, “Don’t worry, Daddy. You’ll be all better in the morning. I promised! You’ll feel better. I’m so sorry, Dad. I’m so sorry.”

The shock of what Owain did startled Inigo out of his trance. Slowly, the blonde’s arms curled around Ophelia, and held her close. The motion was stiff and mechanical, and Owain’s expression didn’t change in the slightest.

“Owain?” Inigo breathed. He stepped up to the bed, and sucked in a breath as those pale eyes looked to him. In the nearness of the candle’s light, the dancer could almost swear he saw something, deep inside. On a hunch, he leaned in and kissed Owain’s cheek, and whispered, “I love you.”

Owain leaned in, pressed his forehead to Inigo’s. His expression remained stoney, and his voice had no tone, and yet Inigo stuttered out a sob all the same when his husband said, “I love you, Inigo. I love you, Ophelia.”

“I love you so much,” Inigo sobbed as he threw his arms around them both. He tucked his face under Owain’s chin, and felt a strong arm curl stiffly around him. “Oh, Owain,” he gasped, and sniffled, and managed, “Owain, we’re going to fix this. We’re going to be a family, and you’re going to be ok, and Ophelia’s going to be ok. I promise. I promise. Everything’s going to be ok,” and on Inigo babbled until his words failed him, and on he sobbed until he could cry no longer. Throughout it all, Owain kept an arm around him and sat there, saying nothing. Throughout it all, Ophelia cried with him until her own tears dried, until finally she fell asleep against Owain’s still form.

Inigo took one, two, three deep breaths. He managed to steady himself enough to look into Owain’s blank face and force a smile. “I’m going to put her to bed, and then I’ll be here. You… you should lie down and sleep soon.” As the dancer scooped up their fae daughter, Owain simply laid down, atop the covers, without a word. “Under the covers, Owain,” Inigo added as he left the room. Ophelia was easy to put to bed, for she remained asleep for the entire trip back to her room. When the dancer returned to his own bedroom, he saw that Owain was under the covers, though his husband stared at the ceiling and lay stiff as a board.

Inigo scooted under the covers and curled against Owain, swallowing back his dread. “You’ll feel soon,” he promised softly. “Then we’ll fix this. We’ll fix this.” He kept that thought in mind until sleep finally came.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Inigo was abruptly woken up by strong arms pulling him against a familiar chest. His head was peppered with kisses, and when he managed to open eyes bleary with sleep, he saw pale grey-green ones stare back at him, overflowing with tears.

“Inigo, I’m so sorry,” Owain said, and crushed the poor dancer against him with a tightened hug. “I acted without thinking, and I worried you so much, I--” he stopped when Inigo’s lips pressed against his.

When Inigo pulled away, he cupped Owain’s dark face in his hands. “I forgive you, love.” His thumbs rubbed gentle circles against Owain’s tear-streaked cheeks, and smiled. “Don’t look so sad. When I paid a visit to your parents, your father had an idea.”

“He did?” Owain asked, surprised. Inigo grinned wide just at the fact that his husband was so emotional, and moreso as he found he didn’t mind explaining what Owain had missed.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

They decided to wait for night, when the moon would be visible as it had been a few days ago. The wait was hard, Inigo decided, and not just because of anticipation. Ophelia was back to being utterly emotionless, through breakfast and all the chores of the day, through hanging on the couch or trying to play games, she didn’t pout or cry or smile.

As evening drew near, Ophelia walked up to Inigo and hugged him. When he startled and stared down at her, she simply droned, “I love you.”

The dancer fell to his knees and hugged her close, and whispered, “I love you, too. Don’t give up yet, sweetie. You’re gonna be a full person soon, I promise.”

Ophelia said nothing further until Inigo let go, and then she wandered off to give the same message to Owain. He watched his blonde husband cry, and love her back, and babble something about bravery. Then Inigo realized that his ears were ringing, that his vision was blurry from tears.

Owain must’ve noticed; shortly after, Inigo felt himself being pulled into another hug, and he gratefully accepted. They stood together for what felt like hours, tears shed and mingling upon the wooden floor.

Finally, the time came. While Ophelia slept, Owain and Inigo stepped outside, hand-in-hand. A soft breeze ruffled the treetops; the leaves shone in the pale moonlight. Owain stared up at the moon, as he had mere days ago. Inigo followed his gaze, and something about the sky above felt expectant. There was a hush, as if the forest waited for something. The cool air tingled where it touched bare skin.

Inigo glanced sideways at Owain, and knew his husband was weighing words. But for once, the dancer decided to speak, his gaze returned to the moon before he did so. He remembered what Henry had said about words, and about the power of love. He squeezed Owain’s hand and took a deep breath. “Please. We love her so much. Please let her be human, and live with us, and grow up happy. Please,” he stopped, choked up for a moment, “Please, whatever is listening, whatever gave us Ophelia, please. Please. This is the last thing we’ll ever ask for.”

Owain glanced at Inigo and smiled, sad but approving, hopeful yet fearful. He looked up again just as clouds covered the moon. The forest was bathed in darkness, and Owain trembled briefly. Inigo felt it, then, as he hadn’t days before. The subtle spark, the tingle of a bargain struck, of a promise fulfilled, and then of fatigue. He leaned against Owain and yawned, tired as if he’d cast a spell, and they both went back inside where it was warm, and back to bed where they could sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

At first, when Inigo felt someone jump on the bed and hug him, he assumed Owain had gotten to the coffee first. But then he realized the arms wrapped around him were too small, and he sat up so quickly that Ophelia was nearly flung off the bed. He held her close and laughed and cried all at once, and she squealed with joy.

Then another pair of arms were flung around them as Owain joined the hug, his smile lighting up the room. Owain’s tears ran in rivulets down his freckled face, down Inigo’s face, down Ophelia’s face as they embraced.

“I love you,” Inigo whispered. Owain leaned in and kisses him, gently, soundly.

“I love you, too,” he murmured. Then Ophelia leaned up and smooched both their cheeks.

“I love you, too!” she laughed, and everything was ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this! Owainigo Weekend has been fantastic, and I’m so glad I got to write down and develop my dream into this. Expect a bonus chapter for the bonus day on August 7th, and until then, MAY YOUR INNER DARKNESS SHINE THROUGH. Also be wary of making really extreme deals, please. But also believe in the power of love, because love is good.


	4. Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To live happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Addendum: Libra did in fact appear again, whoops, here he is, a good noodle.  
> Finally done! Sorry for the delay, many things in real life happened. But I hope y’all enjoy this cute and somewhat bittersweet bonus.

“Even the most vile curses can be used for good,” Owain was explaining to their daughter, who listened with wide-eyed awe. “You must use your wits and inner strength, and then you can overcome any obstacle!”

“And we’re gonna make the world better today!” Ophelia chirped, and they grinned at one another. 

Inigo smiled at his dorky family. They were walking through the fields to Owain’s home village on a mission: to visit the orphanage, then the family. Owain had hit upon the brilliant idea of regularly visiting orphanages and, theoretically, his curse would ensure that all the kids got adopted before they arrived. First, they would test this theory on the home village location; then, they would celebrate their anniversary together with Ophelia’s now-grandparents before moving onward the following day.

They wandered through the peaceful village, occasionally waving to familiar faces. The sun shone down upon the simple dirt roads, and Ophelia ran ahead and behind and all around, pointing and giggling at things as if enjoying them for the first time.

“Father, Dad, look!” she pointed to a chicken in someone’s front yard. Then she waved at a dog, whose fluffy tail wagged. She pointed at houses and asked which one belonged to her grandparents, to which Owain motioned to the right one and promised they’d visit right after seeing Uncle Libra.

Soon, the chapel came into view, with the smaller orphanage situated snugly beside it. While Owain explained the purpose of a chapel, to Ophelia’s many tough questions, Inigo stepped into the orphanage and glanced around. The interior was much as he remembered it, though the lighting was better. He called out softly; by the time Owain and Ophelia joined him, Libra had entered from the side door to the chapel.

The priest smiled at the little family. “Welcome back. I see you managed to find someone,” he said with a kind smile at Ophelia, who stared at him with wide-eyed curiosity. “Hello, little one. I’m Libra, a simple priest of Naga. What’s your name?”

“Ophelia!” she chirped, hopping up to the priest to shake his hand. “I am a miracle of the forest!”

“I see,” Libra replied. He raised a brow at the parents.

“I’ll explain later, Uncle,” Inigo cleared his throat sheepishly, “So, uh-”

“We’re here to use my curse for good!” Owain interrupted with cheer. “So! Let me guess, Uncle: once more, this place is void, as all in need have found a home! Right?”

“Actually, no,” Libra’s soft voice was surprised, as were the looks he received at the statement. “We do have one little girl who has not found a home--”

“Oh! Can we meet her?” Ophelia cut in. “Everyone should have a home! That’s why we're here, right?” she asked her parents as she looked back to them hopefully.

Owain looked to Inigo, and the dancer couldn’t help but smile. “We can at least say hi.” Owain grinned, and they shared a brief kiss.

Ophelia cheered and ran forward, accepting Libra’s hand as the priest led them through the back door to the orphanage proper. There, amidst the main area with toys painstakingly repaired and well-kept, an adorable little girl sat and played with a plush kitty. Her pink hair was growing long around her shoulders, and when she turned to look at the visitors, her bright pink eyes shone with curiosity.

“Hello!” she greeted as she stood, with her kitty plush clutched in one hand.

“Hi!” Ophelia returned the greeting as she ran up to the girl, who looked to be a couple years younger. “I’m Ophelia! What’s your name?”

“Soleil,” the little pink girl replied, and held up her little kitty toy. “Do you like cats?”

“What’s a cat?” Ophelia asked, thus beginning a very informative conversation on the virtues of cats and their cuteness.

As soon as they had entered the room, Inigo had stopped and stared at the pink-haired girl. Owain looked to him and squeezed his hand gently, startling the dancer. “Love, what troubles your heart?” the blonde quietly asked.

“Nothing, just,” Inigo hesitated, then looked to Owain’s worried face and smiled. “I haven’t seen pink hair on anyone else but my mother.”

“It’s as if fate’s hand is at work,” Owain suggested.

Inigo laughed quietly. “Maybe it is, but… only if she wants to.” He took a deep breath and strode up to the merrily chatting girls. Kneeling by them, he smiled warmly. “Hello there. I’m Inigo, and,” he pointed back at his smiling dork, “that’s my husband, Owain, and,” he ruffled Ophelia’s hair, “this is my daughter, Ophelia. I heard that your name is Soleil?”

“Yup!” the little girl confirmed, though she eyed Inigo with a little unease. “I don’t have a mom or a dad, but that’s ok, because I have my cute kitty.” She held up her little toy cat.

Libra very gently added, “We’re the latest place she’s been passed along to, but we can take care of her for some time.”

“I see,” Inigo murmured faintly, exchanging a wide-eyed look with Owain. This poor girl, passed from orphanage to orphanage with no inkling of family, and she was so sweet! His heart threatened to break from the injustice of it all. By the time he looked back to Soleil, his usual charming smile threatened to waver. “Would you like a home with us?”

Soleil’s eyes widened, and she looked from the beaming Odin and Ophelia, to Libra, to Inigo again. Realizing his question was abrupt, Inigo quickly added, “I mean, if you want, we can just hang out for a bit first, and then you can decide. We have a nice house, and we were going to visit family after this, so. Uh,” he stuttered to an awkward stop. The little pink girl frowned thoughtfully, an expression that was utterly adorable.

Libra knelt by them with an understanding smile. “Soleil, if you want, I will go with you while you decide if you want to live with them.”

“Hmmm,” the little girl considered. Then she held up her toy. “Can I bring my kitty?” When Libra nodded, she smiled. “Ok! Let’s go!” She grasped Libra’s hand with her tiny one, intent on following the already-running Ophelia out.

Odin stepped aside to let them go ahead, the little girls calling in excitement. He looked to Inigo and stole a kiss, then his hand, and whispered, “Fear not this day, my love.”

“I’ll try not to,” Inigo murmured, and they stood a moment together before Ophelia’s impatient call got their attention. With a grin, Odin pulled his husband along, who laughed and followed.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“So then I told him, ‘just try love!’ and it worked,” Henry cackled. Olivia’s eyes widened with alarm as she glanced back at the little blonde girl, who was currently pestering her husband: Lon’qu watched with brows raised as the little yellow blur bounced all around him. “Don’t worry, she’s a sweetie,” the dark mage added.

“I, um, I’m sure,” Oliva mumbled, her gaze only reluctantly returning to Henry. “And… Inigo’s ok?”

“Oh, sure, he’s fine now,” Henry assured with a flippant hand-wave. “And Owain’s just peachy, too. Me and Lissa love our lil’ granddaughter! She’s like Owain when he was a lil’ tyke, except she reads way more than he did.”

Olivia used to wonder if letting her son marry the excitable blonde had been a good idea. But Owain had a good heart, and with time and age they had matured to a happy couple. She was proud of them both, even if they still did reckless things sometimes… even if those reckless things worked out.

Meanwhile, Inigo glanced back at his mom and father-in-law’s conversation with furrowed brows. A huff drew his attention quickly back to Lissa, however, who smiled at his worried expression. “Don’t worry, Henry and your mother get along pretty well these days.”

“I know,” Inigo sighed and leaned back against the couch. Down the hall, he could faintly hear Owain’s loud and dramatic telling of their family history; no doubt Libra was patiently listening, but he wondered if Soleil would even be interested. He caught Lissa eyeing him and straightened. “Thanks for the tea, Lissa. It’s very good.”

“Henry made it,” Lissa corrected with a smile. “We got some rare stuff from a traveling merchant, and y’know, we figured today would be a good day to use it.” She turned and set her hands upon Inigo’s shoulders, which required her to reach up to even do so. “Inigo,” she began, her gaze suddenly intense and locking with his, “happy anniversary. You and Owain seem so happy together, and,” she gestured to herself and back at the chattering Henry, “we couldn’t be prouder of you both.”

“Oh,” was all Inigo could manage at first. Every year, he got kind words from his parents and in-laws both, and every year he teared up. Through the familiar blurring, he saw and returned Lissa’s smile. “Thank you. I’m… I’m just happy to be with him.”

“Good! And if you two need parenting advice, just remember that me and Henry are only half a day away, alright?” Lissa grinned and winked, and managed to get Inigo to grin, too. “Now you should go make the little pink girl feel at home, because I wouldn’t mind another granddaughter.”

Inigo’s face turned a shade of red, and he quickly hopped off to check on Soleil. He found them in the main room, where Owain gestured to portraits of past and current family members and told tales of their heroic deeds. To the dancer’s hope and relief, little Soleil seemed transfixed with awe as the blonde went on and on.

“-thus plunging our fair country into a time of bountiful peace,” Owain finished with a flourish towards his uncle’s portrait. “My cousin, who dwells in the capitol, will next take the throne. Thus have I been free to roam the land, to aid the citizenry as my sword-hand allows! That’s how I met Inigo,” he added with a smile at the dancer in the doorway, “the love of my life. The tales I could tell of our life up to this point would consume many days, and dinner is surely soon!” He grinned, which got Soleil to giggle. “But after, I will regale you with more stories.”

“Ophelia might want to play after dinner,” Inigo pointed out. He leaned against the doorway and smiled as Owain approached him, sharing a brief kiss.

“Then I will share my stories another day,” Owain promised. He didn’t immediately pull away from Inigo’s face, but rather touched foreheads with the dancer, simply enjoying their closeness. “Happy anniversary, my dancer of the sky,” he whispered. Then he startled and glanced down. Inigo followed the blonde’s gaze and saw Soleil tugging at Owain’s belt, her little stare filled with determination.

“I think you’re really cool,” Soleil began, “but I don’t wanna be adopted.” Even Libra seemed surprised to hear this, judging by his raised brows.

“Oh, that’s ok,” Inigo said, smiling despite his sadness. “If you like, we can still stop by and visit you.”

“Oh, ok!” Soleil chirped. “Good! I wanna be friends. I don’t wanna say good-bye to Libra.”

“Oh, Soleil,” Libra sighed, but it was a patient sigh, and he kneeled to ruffle her short pink hair. “I can still visit you, little one. They don’t live very far away.”

The little girl pondered this with a very serious frown. Then she looked up at the hopeful couple. “Can Ophelia be my sister?”

“Of course she can,” Owain assured with a blooming smile. He squeezed Inigo’s hand discreetly as he went on, “and Lissa and Henry can be your grandparents! You want a cool grandpa like Da-- Henry, right?”

“Yeah!” Soleil agreed, brightening up.

“Don’t forget my parents,” Inigo mock-pouted at Owain, earning a laugh from both the blonde and the little girl.

Then Ophelia barreled into the room and narrowly avoided running into anyone. “Soleil, come on, Grandpa Henry’s gonna summon a bunch of crows!”

“Can he summon kitties?” Soleil asked as she ran after Ophelia, who was far too excited to wait.

“I’ll go get the paperwork ready,” Libra said as they heard the front door slamming shut. He smiled at Owain and Inigo. “I know you’ll give her a good home.”

“Thank you,” Inigo managed, swallowing past the lump of joy in his throat. After the priest had said his good-byes to the now-grandparents and left, the dancer simply hugged his husband tight. Owain’s strong arms were a steadying force in Inigo’s life, in more than just the physical sense. He listened to his love’s heart beat, and smiled, for this anniversary was surely the best one yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my personal/writing Twitter @Squishy_Jerry!


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